


How hard is it?

by CursedCursingViking



Category: Enola Holmes (2020), Henry Cavill - Fandom, Sam Claflin - Fandom
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Caning, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, F/M, Fluff, Multi, Punishment, Smut, Spanking, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:13:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27133676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CursedCursingViking/pseuds/CursedCursingViking
Summary: A lovely night turns painful for you, as Henry and Sam get enough of your bratty behaviour. Here you have a snippet:'Henry immediately turned to me and snapped: “How hard is it just to be our good little girl for a night? Huh?”The panic set in, as if the warnings I had accumulated over the evening were dumped on me at once. “I’m sorry-” I began, but Sam interrupted me.“Save it.” He was cold. I turned my eyes to look at him, but his glare made my fear double, and I opted to stare at the floor instead.Henry pulled me into his embrace to lift me up, softly suggesting “let’s get this over with.”'
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Original Female Character(s), Sam Claflin/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	How hard is it?

**Author's Note:**

> If you follow me on Tumblr, you know I have turned into a massive slut for Henry Cavill. This is my first fic about him, I hope you like it!

My legs were wrapped around Henry’s unfairly small waist, and my arms were around his neck, as he carried me through the hallway, which felt longer than usual, thanks to Sam, who was following close by, his eyes letting me know, if I didn’t already, that I had greatly disappointed them. But, of course, I already knew. They explicitly told me, and even before that, I had an inkling that my bratty behaviour was not in my best interest. Many times during the night, Henry had sent me those looks, silently telling me to take it back a notch, and tried to get me to sit in his lap where he could hold me still. But I made it a point to barely be within his arms’ reach, teasing him, and maybe making him slightly cross. When Sam pulled me aside in the kitchen while brewing another pot of tea, I should have taken the chance he gave me. 

“Last chance, Love. Behave, or you will regret it later,” he had snarled with a hand around my upper arm. But, of course, I didn’t listen and kept on toying with their patience and the edge of my skirt. Through the night, I noticed how their jaws tensed further and further each time I got mouthy with witty remarks or brushed hands with our guests when reaching for the sugar. 

In hindsight, I should’ve stopped. But that’s the thing about hindsight, it’s never there when you actually need it, and only when we waved the last guest out and closed the door, it hit me that I was in trouble. Big trouble. 

Henry immediately turned to me and snapped: “How hard is it just to be our good little girl for a night? Huh?” 

The panic set in, as if the warnings I had accumulated over the evening were dumped on me at once. “I’m sorry-” I began, but Sam interrupted me.

“Save it.” He was cold. I turned my eyes to look at him, but his glare made my fear double, and I opted to stare at the floor instead. 

Henry pulled me into his embrace to lift me up, softly suggesting “let’s get this over with.” 

He picked me up with his stupidly strong arms, and finally, after a whole night of constant disobedience, I knew better than to fight him. I held on, like his own little koala bear, as he carried me to the bedroom. Sam followed, his eyes glued on mine. His cold and clearly upset face made me want to apologize again, but I knew from experience he probably wouldn’t have it. 

“What happened that made you sorry now, when, clearly, you haven’t been sorry all evening,” was something he would say, so I didn’t bother to challenge him, only to add to my scoldings. Especially as I felt the frustration press on my eyes already. I hid them in Henry’s sweater-clad shoulder instead. 

I’m sure he felt my breath hiccup as we passed through the door - at least he wasn’t surprised to find me trying to cover my slightly swollen eyes when he put me down. He wasted no time comforting me and went straight to undressing me from the waist down. I could hear Sam rummaging in the closet. 

When my skirt and leggings were tossed into the laundry, and I was left in my shirt, socks and undies, the first audible sob escaped me, and Sam reprimanded me immediately. 

“You brought this upon yourself, so stop sniffling. You will have plenty of time - and reason - once we’re done. Now, come here!” 

His ‘comforting’ words didn’t help, but I rubbed my eyes as I walked towards him. Henry noticed the cane in his hand before I did. 

“Warm her up first,” Henry insisted gently. Out of the two, he was the one who disliked punishing me most. Sam didn’t find it ideal either, but was more concerned with my misbehaviour than my comfort during a punishment. 

Sam already had his hand in a firm grip around my upper arm, but he let go as Henry took me by my hips and dragged me towards him. He moved backwards to sit on the bed, pulled me over his knee, and tugged my panties upwards, wedging them between my cheeks, stripping me of whatever minimal protection they would have provided. 

“Please,” was all I dared and managed to whisper before Henry landed the first hit, pressing tears further up in my eyes. Sam had taken a seat in the leather chair across from the bed, where he had the best view of Henry slowly heating my cheeks. 

And when I say slowly, I mean it. Each heavy blow got to sting, burn, then pulse in pain before the next one landed. It was excruciating to lie there, completely still, as every moment was filled by humiliation under Sam’s watchful eye, only broken by the very occasional sting of Henry’s palm. After a few hits, Sam spoke up against his procrastination. 

“Henry…” he dwelled with compassion towards his friend. He knew Henry didn’t favour these moments, so he repeated his words from earlier: “Let’s get this over with.” 

Henry sighed and put his free hand firmly around my waist, pulling me closer to keep me still, and then… hit after hit after hit, hit my backside with increased speed and force, and I hid my face by pressing it deeply into the covers. It wasn’t enough to stifle my sobs though, and I’m sure they both heard, even though Henry remained relentless. He had found and put on that tough shell Sam always wore during punishments, that made it possible for him to ignore my cries and carry on with his heavy hand. If I found his hand difficult to take, then how would I ever get through Sam with the cane? I caught myself wondering - as I had many times before. Somehow, I always made it through, but it always felt like a mystery. 

Finally, Henry thought I had endured enough of his hand to be ready for the cane, and he helped me stand. I barely got to gain my balance before I heard Sam sigh deeply with what could have been regret, and then grab my arm again. He pulled me to stand by his left side, bent over, as he held me firmly between his hand and hip, my already bruised butt sticking out for his right hand to terrorize. 

“It will be over soon,” was all the warning and comfort he gave me, before letting the cane strike down, leaving agonizing, slanted, red lines on my pink, glowing skin. I grabbed on to his trouser-clad leg to keep myself balanced, even though his left hand held me securely in place. His pace was quick, and I gasped, yelped and sobbed my way through my least favourite kind of spanking - a punishment caning. 

I could tell Henry was still sitting on the bed, now viewing Sam tear up my bottom, and when I managed to open my eyes for long enough to look at him through my tears, it was clear to me he was enjoying the show more than it upset him to see me cry. The growing bulge in his pants was evidence of his change in moods. 

Finally, Sam slowed down the pace, and between the last two strokes, he paused and scolded me quickly. “You foolish girl.” He whapped me one final time - no more or less harshly than before - and once my shocked sob had quieted down to my quiet panting, he helped me stand up straight. “To bed,” he ordered, and I followed. 

I quickly stripped completely and crawled under the sheets Henry had pulled back for me, while Sam put away the torturous instrument. For a bit, I laid there sniffling, as they undressed and got ready for bed. Henry crawled in on the right side of me, wearing nothing but his bulged out boxers, a bit before Sam joined us behind me, wearing those striped pyjama bottoms that made him seem a million years older to me, in a cute and comforting way. He wrapped his hands around me from the back and nuzzled comfortingly into my neck. He had finally dropped that harsh exterior and now treated my tired body and mind gently. 

Sam kissed my shoulder and whispered “good girl. You took it so well.” 

Henry moved closer too and scooped me out of Sam’s arms to place me more directly under him. “Come here, sweet girl,” he encouraged me when I whimpered. 

Sam propped his head up on his hand to enjoy the show he knew was about to unfold. 

Henry moved one of my legs to the other side of him, spreading me open for him to admire. He sat back up on his knees and shuffled out of his briefs, letting his erect cock stand free, but not for long before he buried himself in me, just barely taking the time to make sure I was wet enough to take him. Henry was not a patient man in bed, and the quick pace he settled on immediately was evidence of that. In the context of sex, he and Sam were as different as they were when punishing me. In bed, Sam would take his time, be gentle and comforting, but Henry let nothing stand between him and his pleasure. His big, bulging cock thrust into me, and the movement pushed and dragged me ever so slightly across the sheets, putting pressure on my very sore backside. The tears that had slowly faded over the last few minutes came back to me as the stinging and burning sensation returned, as if I was being spanked all over again. I gasped and looked up at Henry’s icy blue eyes. 

“Henry,” I mewled, as he grabbed my wrists and held them down on either side on my head. 

Sam put a hand on my cheek, making me look at him. “You know your safeword, love?” he checked in, and I nodded while sniffling again. “Good,” he praised and moved his hand to my chest. “Then keep still and let Henry fuck you the way he wants.” With that, Sam’s merciful patience left me to Henry’s forces. 

He grunted deeply and fucked me harder, once Sam had gotten the ok from me, pressing me further into the mattress, pulling another cry from me. 

“Henry, it hurts,” I pleaded for my skin. 

Sam was quick to scold me. “Keep quiet. You know you can stop this if it is truly too much, but unless that is the case, know your place and keep quiet! Or I will make it hurt worse.” He might be patient when he was the one fucking me, but to him, this was purely a matter of me behaving well for Henry - or, more truly, it was a matter of heightening the tension in the room, making me more desperate, and pulling more cries from me for Henry to feast on. 

My breath wavered and I laid still for Henry, who let go of the wrist closest to Sam in order to slap, then squeeze my breast. His breath was heaving and he was grunting deeply, as he kept on fucking me in a manner that could only be described as animalistic. 

All while Sam laid next to us, watching Henry fuck me senseless, until he finally decided he wanted in. He pulled down his trousers and motioned to Henry, who backed off for a bit, allowing him to pull me back into his embrace. From behind, he dipped his cock - slightly longer and leaner than Henry’s - into my dripping cunt, but he only remained for a few pumps, until he was covered in my slick juices. He used his tip to drag and smear my evidence of arousal back to my asshole, lubing me up so he could slide in slowly. 

Sam’s patience was something I was always fond of, as a beautiful contrast to Henry’s impatience, but especially when he took me anally, I appreciated his slow pace. I winced and gasped as he inched himself in. 

Hemry had been admiring Sam and me and said in response to my strained mewling: “God, you’re sexy when you whimper.” 

Sam was finally in to the hilt, and he readjusted himself under me, before inviting Henry back in. “Then come, make her whimper some more.” 

Henry’s hungry smile said “my pleasure” as he reassumed his position between my legs, which Sam held wide open. He pushed himself back in, fast as usual, making me cry out from the excruciating pleasure stemming from my core. Sam joined my outburst, as Henry’s cock filled me up and made me even tighter around him. “Fuck!” Henry groaned and began thrusting again, vigorously enough to move me back and forth on Sam’s cock as well. 

“Hen-Henry!” I stuttered and moaned, letting my head fall back onto Sam’s shoulder. 

“Relax, baby,” Sam coaxed, as Henry inched closer to his climax, picking up speed and depth as he went on. 

Henry had his forehead on my chest by now, sending a plethora of sensations through me. His breath was hot and damp, like his wild curls currently tickling my skin and sending little jolts to my sex. 

My sex, already fully stimulated, got part of the endorphin rush as Sam’s fingers tangled in my hair and grabbed a handful of my soft flesh by my breast. With that, and their gorgeous cocks filling me, I inched closer to my climax as well. 

Sam held me firmly in place as I squirmed whenever Henry’s pelvis granted me the accidental pleasure of rubbing by my clit. And other than that, there was the snug fit of his thick cock in my narrowed, dripping tunnel, and the occasional crash and brush of his crotch hitting mine. 

I felt like I fell over the edge of my orgasm when Henry strictly ordered me “come!”, but Sam’s firm grasp on my upper body kept my safe as I pulsed through my climax. 

Henry grunted and slowed down, thrusting harshly a few times as he came between my clenching walls. 

I came back down from my high as Henry pulled away. I faintly registered him going to the bathroom. Sam was kissing my shoulder and neck and slowly moved me down onto my side so he could move more easily. I laid tiredly and completely relaxed as he slowly moved against me. Even though his pace was lazy, all the previous activities of the night had him close to finishing already. The teasing, the spanking, the vigorous fucking, all brought to this moment of slow, steady, tired and loving lovemaking, where Sam stroked my shoulder with his lips and grasped one of my breasts in his firm hand as he finished himself inside me. Still kissing and nuzzling, he pulled away from me, letting Henry pick me up. 

He carried me into the bathroom where he had drawn a warm bath for the three of us - the tub was large enough to fit us all - and lowered me into the water. Sam slipped in behind me and Henry sat by my legs. He covered a loofah in a lovely scented shower gel and rubbed it over my skin, making it soft and slippery, so his strong fingers could easily massage my calves. 

Sam also took it upon himself to help relax the muscles he had helped tense, and clean the skin he had helped making dirty. 

“Thank you,” I said as their hands worked magic, earning me a broad smile from Henry and a low humming from Sam. 

“See?” He said, happy to know my manners had returned. “There is our good, little girl,”


End file.
